


Uh… Abracadabra?

by SDRseries



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, South Park
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts AU, M/M, also language warning because this is south park, light fluff here and there, mainly focuses on the main four's shenanigans in hogwarts, the ships are kind of like a background thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 21:53:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11837769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SDRseries/pseuds/SDRseries
Summary: Kyle Broflovski has been a relatively normal boy for most of his life.  He goes to school, has loving parents and a little brother, is very intelligent for his age, and is well-behaved.  However, strange things had begun happening to him ever since he turned eight, and now, at age ten, he finally knows why.An entire world he never even knew existed is opened up to him: one of mystery, wonder, and most of all…magic.





	Uh… Abracadabra?

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo!  
> So this is my first time writing for South Park, and I thought why not kick it off with a Hogwarts AU? I know there's a couple of others floating around but I have some of my own ideas that I'd like to share, including which houses the boys will be sorted into in the next chapter.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

The first thing he felt when he woke up that morning was the coarse fabric of his bedroom floor pressing against the skin of his forehead.  Nothing too unusual, everybody would fall out of bed every now and then.

But for Kyle Broflovski, groggily getting up to see his room in almost utter ruin was something he was almost used to by now, and he knew that wasn’t a good thing, nor was it normal.

His wardrobe was thrust wide open with a plethora of his clothes strewn about the place like a burglar had been frantically rummaging through it looking for something important, carelessly tossing each item over his shoulder in a panicked hurry.  His drawers had suffered the same fate, and many of the items on top of his desk had wound up on the ground as well.  His bedside lamp was knocked over, his toy box was upturned and spilling half of its contents out, and his bedroom lightbulb had popped, small glass shards puddling together in the middle of the carpet.

The ten year-old let out an exasperated groan.

This was going to be an absolute _bitch_ to clean up.

Sighing, Kyle decided that he’d rather have his breakfast first before even _attempting_ to clear out the result of a bad dream he’d had that night, and he’d have to ask his parents to help him with the bulb and toy box.  His mother and father had long ago given up on looking for an explanation for anything out of the ordinary that happened whenever their son was around, and so they just took each incident as an everyday occurrence now.  Not every mishap was bad though, like how a bunch of wildflowers had spontaneously sprouted up around Kyle when he was sitting out on the grass once, or how he’d noticed his father having trouble getting a good fire started in the fireplace and then merely thinking about it promptly set each inch of wood up in flames in an instant, startling Gerald and forcing him to leap back in fright (Kyle had to admit he got a good laugh out of his dad’s girlish squeal).  But those instances were rare at best, and most of the time whatever he unintentionally did was an inconvenience.  He was taken to a doctor the first few times, and then a therapist when the doctor couldn’t find anything wrong.  However, the therapist had thrown Kyle out when, during a temper tantrum (because _god_ she was unbearable), he “accidentally” smashed a glass of water on the wall right behind the poor woman’s head, followed by everything in the room being thrown to the ground by an invisible force.  She was too freaked out and asked his family to never see her again.

 

\---

 

Tiredly rubbing his face, Kyle exited his room and clomped down the stairs to the kitchen, where he could smell the delicious aroma of his mother’s cooking.

“Morning, ma,” he said, placing himself down in his chair at the dining table across from his little brother, Ike.  The young boy was fiddling with one of his toys – he must have already eaten.

“Ah, good morning, Bubbe!  Did you sleep well?” his mother, Sheila, replied.

Kyle huffed.  “No.  Had a nightmare and now more than half of my room looks like it was invaded by a troop of angry monkeys.  _Very_ angry monkeys.  Armed with spiked maces.”

“Oh dear!” the woman gasped.  “Nothing is broken, is it?”

“No, luckily, except for the ceiling light bulb.  It shattered and there’s glass everywhere.”

His mother walked over with a plate of French toast and set it gently down in front of her son.  Kyle smiled up at her in thanks and began digging in.

“I hope you didn’t step on any,” she said, making her way back into the kitchen.

“Nope, I was careful.”

“Alright then.  I’ll get your father to fix it for you today.”

Kyle turned his head to the sound of the front door opening, and in stepped the man in question.  “There’s an owl just sitting on top of the mailbox.  Didn’t even bat an eye when I tried to shoo it off,” he stated as he shrugged his coat off.

“Oh, good timing, Gerald.  Kyle’s bedroom lightbulb is broken and needs replacing.  And how funny?  Maybe the bird belongs to someone in our neighbourhood,” Sheila said, turning to Kyle’s father.

“Maybe.  Anyway, what happened this time, Kyle?” Gerald asked, treading forward whilst shuffling through the mail they received that morning.

“Nightmare,” Kyle replied plainly, shoveling a forkful of toast into his mouth.

“Ah.”  There was silence between the family for a few moments before Gerald spoke up again.  “Oh, well would you look at that, Kyle!  There’s a letter here for you.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow and glanced at his father, trying to see if he was being funny or not.  Since when did _he_ get mail?  However, he was handed a thin envelope that indeed had his name on the front along with his address.  “But who would be writing to me?” he asked no one in particular.

“Why don’t you open it and find out?” Sheila replied, seemingly curious as well.

Still frowning, Kyle turned the sealed piece of paper over and immediately let out an audible “whoa”.

“What is it, son?” his father asked.

“Look, there’s a whole wax seal on it and everything!” Kyle gasped, showing the uneven circle of red to his parents.

“How unusual!  I didn’t know people still used those,” Sheila commented.  “Now we _have_ to know who it’s from.  Might be someone important, Bubbe!”

Without waiting any longer, Kyle carefully pried the seal away from the paper and opened the envelope up, taking out a folded length of handwritten paper.  “Dude, I think even the writing was done with a quill and ink!”  Each letter was beautifully curled and lined neatly on the paper as if they were a work of art.  Sheila and Gerald shared a look as Kyle skimmed over the first line before reading it aloud with the utmost confusion.  “Dear Mr. Broflovski, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of…” he trailed off, his voice going quiet.

“School of what, Bubbe?” Sheila encouraged.

“…Witchcraft and Wizardry…” he finished, lowering the letter but keeping his nonplussed gaze fixed on the thin air in front of him.

“What, what, WHAT?!”

“This…has to be a joke, right?  Someone found out and is now making fun of me for it?” Kyle asked, looking to each of his dumbfounded parents for confirmation.  It had to be.  Some sick bastard thought he was being hilarious.

“Magic!  Magic!” Ike announced happily from his spot at the table, clapping his hands like a sea lion.

Gerald stepped forward and held his hand out.  “Let me see that, son.”  Kyle handed it to him obediently and waited for what he had to say.  “If this is some kind of troll, then they’re damn committed.  I mean, just look at this!  The wax seal, the inked handwriting, and even the legitimacy of the content sounds way too sophisticated!”

Sheila slapped a hand to her forehead.  “I don’t believe this.”

“What else does it say, dad?” Kyle asked, concern lacing his expression.

Gerald cleared his throat.  “Students shall be required to report to the Chamber of Reception upon arrival, the dates for which shall be duly advised.

“Please ensure that the utmost attention be made to the list of requirements attached herewith.”

Kyle did nothing but sit there bewildered as his father read off the list of absurd items he was meant to buy for the supposed “school”.  He wasn’t even sure what half of them were, for fuck’s sake.  All he heard was robes, wand, cauldron, and owl, cat or toad.  Everything else was just made-up gibberish.

“Even if this is real, what about his already existing classes?  We can’t just make him drop out of his school now for some hocus-pocus nonsense!” Sheila started, hands balling at her sides.

“But think about it, honey!  Kyle has always been making weird things happen.  Remember when he started a rainstorm in the bathroom?”  Sheila looked down and contemplated this.  “I think we should take the chance and let him go to this…Hogwarts.  If what this letter says is true, then they’ll teach him to control his, uh, _magic_ , as Ike put it.”  He handed the letter back to Kyle.

Kyle’s mother sighed in defeat.  “Oh, alright then, when you put it that way.  But how are we supposed to get all this stuff?  I don’t suppose there other wizards and witches just roaming around that we can ask?”

“I’m sure we’ll figure out something.  We’ll go to London on the weekend and have a look round.  What do you say, Kyle?  Do you want to try going to Hogwarts?  It sounds fun!”

“I…”  Kyle wasn’t exactly sure what to think at this point.  His dad certainly made a good argument over his abnormal abilities, but this entire thing was just completely illogical.  Surely he was a special case, right?  How could enough other people have the same condition as him to develop a whole fucking _school_ for it?  And his mother had a good point too – what about his current schoolwork?  He still had upcoming tests and homework and projects to complete…  It was too much to just throw out like that!  No way.  This whole thing was a joke and he wasn’t buying it.  “I don’t understand how you could fall for something like this, dad.  It’s so stupid!  Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?  Really?  Somebody else come up with a more unconvincing name please,” he concluded, scrunching the letter up and tossing it to the other side of the table.

His parents shared another look before going back to their morning routine, and that was the end of that.

 

\---

 

Three days later, Kyle found himself aimlessly wandering the streets of London with his parents, trotting along behind them as they looked for the kind of shops they needed.  All three of them had been convinced that the letter was legit once owls had started to crowd their house in astonishing numbers while exact replicas of the original letter poured themselves into every available entrance they could find.

So, there they were, passing store by store, still unsuccessful and still afraid to ask around for help, lest they appear crazy.  Kyle tugged on the earflaps of his green ushanka with a groan, one of the acceptance letters neatly tucked away in a pocket of his bright orange jacket.  They were getting nowhere with this and today gradually felt more and more like a waste of time.

Sheila held up a map of London to her face.  “Well, there is a store not too far from here that is known for selling a variety of odd things; maybe we should check there next and then –”

“Shut _up_ turd!  How many times have I told you that we’re almost there now?  The Leaky Cauldron is literally just a few blocks away.”

Kyle was startled by the sudden ferocious female voice off to his right, drowning out his mother’s rambling.  Her tone was full of nothing but anger and…saliva, from the sound of it.

“But I can’t wait any longer!  It’s been ages since I’ve been to Diagon Alley!” cried another, younger voice.

“Diagon Alley…?” Kyle muttered under his breath.  That definitely wasn’t a place he’d heard of before, especially not in London.  Completely forgetting his parents, he started in a sprint towards the two people.

“I mean, ugh!  Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to get my own wand?!”

“YES!  Now keep your damn voice down, there’s muggles everywhere!”

Kyle was now convinced that these people could help.  “Excuse me!” he called, running up to them and thankfully catching their attention on the first try.  He skidded to a stop in front of them and gave a shy wave.  “Hi, uh, sorry, I…  I overheard what you were saying and I’m not entirely sure where to go for, you know…  Could I maybe tag along?” he asked nervously, finding it difficult to be confident under the annoyed gaze of the teenage girl.  However, the one she was with – another boy about the same age as Kyle – brightened up with a large grin.

“Dude!  You got a Hogwarts letter too?” he asked, stepping in front of the girl.

“Y-yeah!” Kyle replied happily, breathing a sigh of relief.  “Wow, so I’m really not the only one then…”

“Don’t worry, pretty much all muggle-borns have a tough first time when they find out.  I’m Stan, Stan Marsh, and this is my sister Shelly,” the boy said, straightening his red and blue toque atop his jet black hair before holding out a hand to shake.

“I’m Kyle Broflovski.  Nice to meet you, Stan,” Kyle replied, taking the offered hand.  “Um, what’s a muggle-born?” he added quietly, leaning in a little.  Jesus, he felt like he was dealing drugs.

“A muggle is a non-magic person, and a muggle-born is a witch or wizard with muggle parents,” Stan explained, keeping his voice equally low this time.

“Oh.”

As if on cue, Kyle’s parents came storming towards him from the crowd.  “Kyle!  Don’t you ever go running off like that again!  You nearly gave me and your father a heart attack!” Sheila cried.

“Sorry, ma, but I found someone to help us!”  He gestured to the two he just met.  “This is Stan and Shelly.  They’re just like me!” 

Both parents’ eyes widened in surprise.

“Really?” said Gerald.

“Yes sir,” Stan replied, smiling politely.

“Oh how wonderful!” Sheila followed up.  “We’ve been walking for hours looking for the right place.  Could you point us in the right direction?”

Shelly spoke up this time.  “You can come along if you want.  I’m supposed to take my brother to Diagon Alley to get his school stuff.  That’s where you’ll find what you need.”

Sheila clapped her hands in delight.  “Excellent!  Let’s get going then!”

Shelly turned back around and headed in the direction she and Stan were originally going.  Sheila and Gerald walked up front with her while Kyle hung back with Stan; he had a few more questions to ask.

“So how come I’ve never heard of Diagon Alley?”

“The wizarding world is kept a secret from muggles.  We use our magic to conceal special entrances that only we can access, and that includes Diagon,” Stan answered, his voice only just loud enough for Kyle. 

“Dude, that’s so awesome!”

“Dude.  You have _no_ idea.”  Stan seemed to have a permanent smile etched onto his face that morphed into a childish grin every now and then, and his blue eyes were practically swimming with excitement.  “Seriously, I can’t wait to see the look on your face!  Muggle-born reactions are always the best!”

Kyle scoffed playfully.  “Oh gee, thanks.”

“No, I mean it!” Stan continued, bringing his hands up in surrender.  “The look of amazement on their faces whenever they see something super fucking cool for the first time is like watching a friend open an expensive present at Christmas.  It makes you feel proud to be part of something so unique, you know?”

Kyle shrugged.  “I guess, but I don’t celebrate Christmas.  I’m Jewish, so I have Hanukkah instead.”

“Whoa, really?”

Kyle nodded. 

“I’ve never met a Jewish person before.  I’m Catholic, but I’m not super into the religion.  Don’t tell my parents I said that,” Stan added with a sly chuckle.

Kyle chuckled with him and looked ahead, following Stan’s sudden gaze.

“We’re here,” Shelly announced.

Kyle looked up to the small building she was opening the door to, suddenly wary of the blank sign hanging by the doorway.  Stan nudged his shoulder when he stood still.

“Just give it a few seconds.”  He gave a reassuring smile and looked back up to the sign, shoving his hands in the pockets of his brown coat.

Sure enough, after a few moments of staring, the black paint faded away to reveal an image of a cauldron on a faint yellow background.  “Oh, this is the place your sister was talking about!”

Stan nodded eagerly.  “Yep!  It’s a local pub and inn for us, but it also serves as an entrance to Diagon Alley.  Come on!”  He grabbed Kyle’s wrist and hauled him inside, pushing past his parents who were also unsure.

The inside of the pub was dark, lit by candlelight only and a few small windows.  Shady-looking people (wizards and witches, Kyle assumed) occupied many of the tables with their drinks, several reading newspapers – although, upon closer inspection as Kyle walked past one, the pictures for the articles were… _moving_?!

“Oh my, this is certainly…cozy, isn’t it?” Gerald remarked, looking around him nervously as people gave them judgmental stares.  However, Stan and Shelly seemed unaffected by the environment, and they moved swiftly to the back of the room where they waited expectantly for Kyle and his parents.  Kyle was about to join them, but his mother held him back.

“Alright, Bubbe, we’re going to let you go with Stan and Shelly for now.  You father and I are going to do a bit of shopping and then pick up your luggage.  From there, we’ll meet you at King’s Cross, okay?”

Kyle was a bit taken aback at his parents suddenly leaving him with strangers (in any other situation they wouldn’t even dream of such a thing), but then again, they probably felt unwelcome here, so it was understandable.  “Sure thing, ma.”

She handed him a wallet full of cash.  “Here, this should be enough to cover everything you need to get.  You have your phone, yes?”

Kyle nodded.

“Good.  You give us a call if you need anything or when you’re ready to get to the station.  We love you,” she finished, kissing Kyle on the forehead, much to his hidden annoyance.

“Love you too, ma.”

“Have fun, and be safe, son!” Gerald added, waving goodbye.

Kyle waited for his parents to exit out the door of the Leaky Cauldron before turning back to Stan and his sister.  “Sorry for making you wait,” he apologized, rubbing the back of his neck.

Stan waved his hand in dismissal.  “Nah, it’s no problem, dude.  My mom can get pretty sentimental at times too.”

Shelly emitted a groan that Kyle was pretty sure could have been taken as a growl.  “If you turds are done, I’d really like to get going.  We’ve wasted enough time as it is and I’m supposed to meet my friends at the broom shop.”

Kyle swallowed and dared to meet her gaze.  “Uh, sure.  Lead the way.”

The angry witch rolled her eyes and pushed open a door that Kyle wouldn’t have spotted otherwise.  Before they followed Stan’s sister, Stan leaned in to whisper to Kyle.  “Don’t worry about her, dude.  She’s always grumpy.  Just be grateful you don’t have to live with her.  I honestly don’t know how I’m still alive,” he clarified with a small laugh at the end.

“Oh Jesus,” Kyle giggled.

They finally followed Shelly out the door and came to a stop in front of a tall, red brick wall.  Stan was practically bouncing on his toes at this point, prompting Kyle to ask if he was okay.  “Dude, just – watch this,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.  “And FYI, this isn’t even the coolest thing that you’re gonna see.”

Kyle waited patiently as he watched Shelly approach the wall, taking out a long stick – no, a wand, a motherfucking _wand_ – and tapping several different bricks in a certain order.  Before he could even process what was happening right in front of his very own eyes, the bricks shifted and fell apart in the middle, splitting open to reveal the most colourful marketplace Kyle had ever seen.  He was pretty sure that his jaw was hitting the floor, judging from Stan’s echoing laughter beside him.

“Dude,” Kyle began.  “What.  The.  Fuck.”

“Right?!” Stan replied.

“Alright you turds, I’m off.  Go do whatever turd stuff you need to do.”  With that, Shelly turned and disappeared into a crowd of cloaks and pointed hats.

Stan grabbed for Kyle’s wrist once again and began tugging.  “Come on!  Diagon Alley is the fucking _shit_.  You’re going to love it!”

“Okay, okay!” Kyle exclaimed, letting himself be pulled along.

While Stan dragged him into the middle of the bustling crowd, Kyle took this time to acknowledge the stores lined up on either side of him.  The architecture of each building looked like something out of a movie set; nothing was built symmetrically or in a neat, straight line like the rest of London.  The pathways were crafted from cobblestone and every so often Kyle would hear a noise or see a flicker of movement that caught him off guard.  Wizards and witches alike were performing all kinds of spells around him, ones that he could only dream of performing.  But then again, that was why he would be attending Hogwarts.

“Alright, Kyle.  The first thing we have to do is get you into Gringotts,” Stan said, still holding Kyle’s wrist.

“Gringotts?” Kyle questioned, thankful that Stan was still holding onto him.  He would’ve gotten lost for sure by now if he hadn’t.

“It’s a bank.  If you want to buy anything, you’ve got to exchange your muggle money for the wizarding currency.”

“You guys have your own currency too?!”

“Yep.”

“Fuck.  Is there anything else I need to know?”

Stan paused for a moment.  “I don’t think so.  Like, you’ll pretty much learn everything about the wizarding world at Hogwarts, so don’t worry too much.”

Kyle sighed, dodging a group of slightly older witches.  “Alright.  I am a little nervous though.  This is just…all so new.  I can barely even comprehend what’s happening.  Not to mention my parents totally ditched me.”

“Pssh, you’ll be fine.  I’ll stick with you, dude, I promise.  I don’t exactly want to do this alone, either,” Stan replied, throwing Kyle another warm smile in his direction.

“But what about your sister?”

“Oh trust me, she doesn’t give two shits.  She’s already in her third year at Hogwarts so she doesn’t exactly want to deal with me.  It’s just lucky that I already know a bit about what we’re supposed to do.”

Kyle groaned.  “Ugh, I feel so underprepared.”

“Every muggle-born does.  Look, there’s Gringotts now,” Stan said, pointing in the distance to a tall, white building that looked very nearly on the verge of collapsing.  “Hey, get this: apparently there used to be a dragon living in the caves beneath it, guarding some secret treasure or some shit.  Totally cool.”

_What._

Kyle abruptly stopped and yanked on Stan’s arm to get him to stop walking.  “Hold up for just a second,” he said, holding open hands out in front of himself.  “Did you just say a _dragon_?  Like, a flying, fire-breathing, real life dragon?”

Stan nodded enthusiastically.  “Yeah, dude!”

Kyle stared at Stan in disbelief for a few moments, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes wide open.  “Get the fuck out.  You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m telling you, dude!  Dragons are real!”

“Dragons are real,” Kyle repeated like it was a common statement.  “Hoooly shit.  No way.  NO WAY.  THAT IS THE COOLEST SHIT EVER!”  Kyle’s mouth slowly stretched into a grin that easily rivaled Stan’s.

“I told you, didn’t I?  Like, dude, you haven’t even seen or heard _half_ of what you can find hidden from the muggles here in the wizarding world.”

“Oh my god…  Wait, so like…  Are unicorns real too?”

Stand brought up a hand and began counting off his fingers.  “Unicorns, dragons, phoenixes, griffins, hippogriffs, centaurs – you name it, they _all_ exist.”

Kyle blinked, this new information seemingly sucking his soul from his body.  “I think I need to sit down.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this chapter was a tad short - I'll see if I can make the next one a little longer. >~<  
> This was written on impulse so I'm not entirely sure if the pacing is awkward or not. Anyway, let me know what you think and if you want me to continue!


End file.
